In Their Beginning
by LumBabsFan
Summary: Book I of the LumiereBabette trilogy. Before the infamous curse is placed on the castle, a new maid arrives, much to the delight of the casanova maitre d'.
1. Chapter One

**In Their Beginning**

_Book One of the Lumiere & Babette Fanfiction Trilogy_

_Written by Faith Kelter_

Characters © Walt Disney Company

_Chapter One_

She had arrived the night before to the usual sounds one would hear from a village inn at late evening time. Clinking, clanging of different pots from the finished dinner, people rushing up to bed or staying around for drinks and chatter. No one bothered to look up as she entered; there was no need to. Strangers were regulars at an inn, and hence nothing worth interrupting a sip or a word.

The innkeeper sat at a desk in a dimly lit corner of the room, and the young woman approached him noiselessly. There was no need to talk except for necessary information.

He looked up impassively. "May I help you?"

"A room for tonight."

He raised an eyebrow and looked her over. "Very well." He rose only to get a key, handing it to her as he sat back down. "Twenty francs."

She handed him ten. "Half now, the rest tomorrow."

He nodded. "Up the stairs, fourth door on the left; who is the room billed to?"

She pocketed the key. "First name Babette...that shall suffice." She looked up at him, and reassuringly answered his silent question, "You will have the other ten tomorrow, I assure you."

Without even waiting for his response, Babette turned and walked to her room.

Locking the door, she placed her small bags under the bed; she had only a few valuables, no need for much of anything when one was born and bred a servant's life.

After changing quickly, Babette sat down in front of the tiny guest mirror and started brushing her short hair as if the little brush would take everything that happened previously that day out of her mind. She only stopped a moment to gaze at her reflection distantly, remembering...

_The gravediggers had just finished their most recent project and started walking away. Finally she could go to look in peace without anyone to say they were sorry or they understood. They meant well, their intentions were good, but nothing helped. All she wanted was to shut everyone out and just sit there with her mother._

_Babette walked closer, slowly, cautiously, almost expecting and hoping that she would wake up and this would have never happened. She sat down. Everything about this spot seemed to give the signs of recent death. Untarnished headstone that had no wear, the dirt freshly dug into. She wanted to think of it as a blanket keeping her mother warm from the freezing French December winds. It put her more at ease with the thought that her only family was officially gone._

_She could not say a word, not a word to the grave that replaced the vision of her mother, the woman who gave her everything. She had taught her all she knew, even if it was only to be a maid. That was her life and she made it the best she could, thanks to her mother's teachings._

_This same woman who turned nothing into something, problems into solutions, was gone. She had turned a duster into a doll when Babette was a child and there was only a bit of money for a gift. She remembered the time she was playing with other children and the glue they were using for a project became the projectile of a fight, getting all into her dark brown hair, seemingly ruining it as it dried. Maman had to cut every strand to get it out, and after the normal lecture, looked her child over and said, "You should keep it short. 'Tis not the preferred style but on you, it makes you pretty enough to show that it should be." To this day, Babette kept her hair short in result._

_Why did it seem that all of that was gone?_

_Only the voice of Jean Claude, the son of another servant, stopped her thinking. "I do not mean to bother you...but Madame de Crochet wishes to see you."_

_Babette nodded, leaned over to kiss the cold stone and went inside, expecting the worse. Her mistress despised her. According to her, the maid was a mischief maker, "too pretty not to cause trouble." It was a wonder she could keep the job as long as this._

_Madame de Crochet frowned as she entered. "You always did have trouble coming immediately after you were sent for."_

_Babette bit her lip, and only nodded. "I apologize, Madame de Crochet, but with all due respect I do have a right to see my mother alone."_

_The older woman's eyes glared right through her. "Indeed." A harsh business expression followed the single word. "While I offer my condolences, I ask that you understand the reasoning of my action."_

_She remained silent; it was best not to argue._

"_Might as well have all grievances occur at once I say. Your mother was the finest of my servants, God rest her soul, but as she is gone, there is no reason for you to stay."_

_Babette paled. "No reason?"_

"_None. You know very well what I think of you, girl...your mother was the only reason I kept you here as long as I did. She was a good woman and did not deserve to have her only child sent elsewhere. With her gone, do you see any reason for you to stay?"_

_Babette took a deep breath; she had the losing argument and she knew it. Even with expecting the worst, one always prays they were wrong in doing so. "Non, Madame."_

"_Good, you do have a bit of a brain in your head. You are dismissed."_

"_With no where to go?"  
_

"_That is your own decision, and if you are so worried as your eyes betray, then I suggest you make it soon. Although with what little you know, I do not see where else to go but back to this profession, or another of such ill repute, I dare not mention it. You are too grown to learn anything else. Good day."_

A quick wipe to the eyes rid Babette of the tears she did not want to let fall; tears like these were a weakness. Besides, she did have somewhere to go. Jean Claude's father, the kind old man he was, had friends in higher servant places; a few days before, he had sent a recommendation, receiving the affirmative reply some time after. Having that and a little money in her pocket, she decided there was no need to cry, not now.

With a tired sigh and yawn, she slid into bed and attempted to sleep. She would meet the relay escort to the new household tomorrow and everything would be fine.


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

Babette could not eat a thing the next morning; her stomach could not handle it. What else was there to do but change and simply wait for the relay?

She slipped on the only formal thing she owned, her mother's dress. It was a dress fit for her choice career, and the nicest one she had as well as the longest. She never doubted that she was a rebel in her own way, and many of her dresses rose slightly above her ankles and dipped a little more than usual below her neck. While a girl did not use her figure for anything inappropriate, what harm was there in flaunting a bit?

Babette could not help grinning as she thought of that personal philosophy, one of the many reasons Madame de Crochet did not approve of her. Life needed to be lived with caution but with fun at the same time. One could tread water as deep as they dared, just as long as they know what they are doing. If that was trouble, then she was a troublemaker.

With the changing done, she gathered her things again and headed downstairs. Just on time, the relay was due any minute. She walked over to the innkeeper still sitting at his little desk and handed him the promised ten francs.

"I always keep my word as you can see."

He looked up at her, eyeing the second payment. "Indeed you do..." His eye took on a greedy nature. She did not appear to have much money before, and he had not believed she would be able to pay. "But did you happen to notice the time?"

"The time? What about it?"

"'Tis passed ten; extra charge for late risers."

Babette raised an eyebrow. "That is ridiculous."

He shrugged, determined to make her see the sense in it. "Delays our process of tidying up the rooms; I might have had another customer who needed it. I like them done early for those who could actually pay."

"And you did not care to mention this? I do not have enough for any extra...!"

He jumped from his seat threateningly. "Another ten francs or else, wench, I shall have to report a room thief who could not pay the wage!"

"Oh come now, Pierre, how absurd is that?" came a voice from behind them. From what they turned to find, it belonged to a man who did not seem to have any intention of staying long, the relay Babette assumed.

The innkeeper scowled. "What right do you have to interfere?"

The man took out a few francs from his vest pocket, handing them out to him. "Because she is now in my custody."

Mockingly, the innkeeper replied, "One of the many women in _your_ custody."

He only shrugged, taking on the provocation and keeping his offering extended. "So it seems, but the master's orders clearly stated not to return without her. She is of more use to him as another employee, nothing to do with me. But why should that concern you? You have your "late fee" francs, I meet with the lady to take her home, and she has a job. Works well for us all, I believe."

The innkeeper grumbled quietly, taking the payment before shooing them away. "Very well, get along out of here then."

He bowed slightly with a satisfied smirk. "Merci, mon ami." Turning to Babette, his smile grew gentler. "Now then, shall we be going or do you wish to stay in this despicable place?"

Without waiting as the answer was obvious, he started to leave, and she followed to their horses. After he helped her up, Babette observed him as he mounted his own horse and took the lead.

He was a tall and slim man, dressed splendid but rather casual, with his hair covered in the traditional white powder of a high servant rank. A closer look at his face showed that he was younger than his strong voice made him sound...and quite handsome, she thought as she blushed and turned her eyes to the path.

"You do not speak too much, do you?"

He was also blessed with the gift of interruption, she thought. "Pardon?"

He smiled, looking straight ahead at the road. "I said you do not speak too much, quiet as a mouse."

She shrugged, answering mechanically, "It is not my place to speak unless spoken to."

"Well trained indeed, but not the preferred manner for me. Not only is talking a good way to pass the time, but the only way to get to know someone." When she did not reply, he continued, peering over at her. "And as you have not told me your name, shall I simply have to call you "Petite Souris"?"

Babette did not return his glance. "I would prefer you not use a pet name."

"It is a problem?"

"It is quite unacceptable for you to do so, oui."

He laughed, shaking his head in an amused reaction, and she finally did look at him with challenge written across her face. Who was this man to think that not only he could call her these names but then to laugh at her for not wanting him to? "You find humor or pleasure in discomfort?"

"Try unexpected admiration in such a rare quality found in a woman."

"What quality?"

"The cleverness to oppose my words; promises to be a delightful time if you do indeed possess it."

"You take this as a game then?"

"I take many things as a game, mademoiselle."

She raised an eyebrow, wanting nothing more than to give him such a piece of her mind that he would have to stop talking to choke on it. "May I remind you, monsieur, that two could play your game."

"It usually does take two."

"Hmm, good to know; from what you said before, about cleverness being a rare quality in a woman, you take them as opponents to win over so you may gloat. Interesting."

He held his hands up in defense. "It takes all this just to ask what I can call you?"

"You started it."

"Just by asking for your name!" He smiled gently to soften the words. "You should get to know a person, like I am attempting to do, before you judge."

Much as she did not want to, Babette had to admit that he was right. Maybe he was not what he was possibly jesting to be, and with a defeated sigh, she replied, "Babette."

"What was that?"

"My name, it's Babette."

He grinned, "A nice one it is; now was that so hard?"

She shook her head in a negative response, and he stayed silent for a moment before trying to speak again. "Lumière." She looked up, and he smiled. "That's mine...just in case you were wondering."

With the exception of an occasional glance or comment on minor things such as the road or scenery, the ride continued in silence, for in Babette's mind, there was nothing else to say at present. The strangest feeling inside told her there would be more words, more meetings with this Lumière as time went on, but for now, their conversation was over.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

Serenity and utter stillness were the pair's companions as they pressed on their journey. When they came to the woods, Babette took the time to look around her. It was indeed very enchanting despite all that she had heard about the different forests of France. Those were monster stories; this...this was anything but such a tale.

The hour was still on the left side of dusk, brightening the woods one last time before the sun was due to set. Canopies of leaves and branches allowed the sky to be viewed, hinting at its vastness. The sounds of different creatures and a small creek could bring a traveler's ears to the point of calmness. Across the stream from them came a doe, and she watched as her onlookers caught her gaze. When she decided that she was safe in their presence, she bent her head to drink in peace.

From the lead, Lumière turned back to look at his charge, following her gaze to the doe, and smiled. "She frequents this area often; knows that she can trust most of the wanderers that pass through."

Both pulled their horses to a halt to let them drink when Babette questioned. "Most? Not all?"

He shook his head. "Not everyone is as kind to her as we are; that other group finds pleasure in taunting her...or worse."

She bit her lip. "The poor thing..."

They watched for a moment more before Lumière nudged his horse to continue, but that only led to protest from the animal, perturbed that his drink was interrupted by a mere human.

Lumière frowned. "Thunder, you miserable old heathen! You are definitely one of the master's horses, always have to do things your way or no way."

He leapt down, held the reins firmly attempting to show this horse who his master was, and watched as Babette did the same. "Yours as much a devil as he is?"

"Non, it is only fair to give them a break," she replied, petting her mare's neck gently before releasing the reins and sitting on the bank.

Lumière raised an eyebrow surprised. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

He gestured to the mare, lapping up the water as she freely pleased. "Get her to stay without worrying if she will run off."

She shrugged. "Simple, show anything a bit of respect, and it will give it back to you."

"Maybe yours, not mine."

Babette heaved a great sigh as she stood. "Men...always have to do things the hard way."

When she held out her hand for the reins, his eyes betrayed a hint of worry. Thunder was a wild one; it took all the stable boys and most house servants to tame him after he was given to the young master on his last birthday. "I hope you know what you are doing."

Nonetheless, Babette casually accepted the reins, and patted Thunder's neck in a coaxing manner. The steed nearly hit them both as his head spun to look at this stranger who dared to touch him, and he pounded his hoof roughly in discomfort.

"Doucement, mon ami..." she whispered as she took her hand away, steadying him slightly. "You are right, I was wrong...there now." She brought her hand around to his snout, allowing him to sniff it with inspection. This human seemed all right. No hidden things up her sleeve that would harm him...and he pulled his head back in approval.

Babette soothingly patted him again the same way as before, but this time with better results. As she slowly let go of the reins, she turned to her stunned companion proudly. "Like I said, simple."

Lumière stared in shocked amusement, definitely impressed. "You are something else, aren't you?"

She raised an eyebrow in a questioning glare before turning her attention back to her own horse. "Meaning...?"

Lumière slowly let his eyes peruse the woman before him, swallowing as a warm feeling rushed over him. "You really know how to put things in their place, no offense intended."

She thankfully did not catch his gazing quest as she faced him. "None taken."

Then their eyes met, suddenly and unexpectedly, each deeply noticing the other's for the first time. In his, she saw a glimmer, giving her chills at such a new sight; in hers, he saw something like nothing he had seen in any girl before...

But the moment perished in seconds as a frightening musket shot sounded in the distance causing both horses to rear and buck dangerously. Lumière and Babette cautiously grabbed the reins of each, barely succeeding in calming them down before feeling their senses return to normal. Glancing across the stream, they saw the doe paralyzed in fear. The poor creature raised her eyes in the direction of the noise, and was only willing to move when a stag bounded injured through the bushes, as if trying to lead her away. She in turn was all too eager to follow.

Babette breathed a sigh of relief, looking to Lumière for answers, his eyes fixed on the bushes. She asked quietly, "What is going on?"

He shook his head in disgust. "The master's hunting time."

She would have persisted in her questions when two riders appeared from where the stag had come. Both climbing onto their horses, she looked at them closer. Two men, one was a tall young boy, hardly older than seventeen and dressed in the most elegant clothes she had ever seen. The other was older, more so than any of them, short and stout, with a manner of dress closer to that of Lumière than the boy.

As they crossed the stream to meet them, the boy snarled angrily at missing his target.

"Lumière you must have seen that stag! Where did it go?"

Lumière did not hesitate, even as he lied. "Forgive me, master, but having just arrived when the shot was fired, we saw nothing."

At the word "we", both men peered behind him to see Babette, and the older one spoke up.

"Ah yes, the new maid, that's right. I had received word of you...Babette correct?"

"Oui monsieur."

The man rode closer, kissed her hand respectively, and very proudly announcing himself as Lumière rolled his eyes, not so discreetly. "I am Cogsworth, head of the household you are joining."

Babette nodded, trying to hide a grin at both their actions. "Enchanté."

Cogsworth then gestured to the boy, who did not seem to care any less and making it a point to let his expression show it. "And may I present, the prince of our region, Vincent, our master."

Babette barely suppressed her eyes from growing another inch or two wide. A prince? No one had said anything about a prince...but then she did not ask. She tried to bow as best she could while sitting on a horse. "Monseigneur...I am honored."

The young man groaned with impatience. "Cogsworth, really, as if formalities were meant to be held outdoors in this infested God forsaken place! Besides, she is just another servant, just as the rest of you are, do I make myself clear?

Both men took on an instant expression of pure obedience, replying in unison, "Of course, master."

"Very well, may you not forget it as I say we return home this instant; this cat and mouse chase has left me famished."

Vincent did not bother to wait before he kicked his horse into a run, leaving the three of them alone. Cogsworth looked at Lumière nervously, both seemed a little disturbed and fearful, Babette observed, but decided to stay silent as they nudged their horses into a walk.

Cogsworth broke the silence. "Forgive the master, miss; failing at a hunt always puts him in a foul mood. I hope the previous part of the ride was better?"

"Very much so," she assured him, before glancing at her other companion. "Monsieur Lumière has made it...interesting enough, being somewhat of a gentleman in keeping me company."

Cogsworth snorted. "That would be a first."

Babette looked back at him puzzled. "Monsieur?"

"Are you truly serious?" he continued. "I did not know that word was even in his vocabulary! What with all the—"

Without warning, Cogsworth's horse reared and bolted off ahead of them with the poor man hanging on for dear life. Babette remained perplexed. "Wonder what on earth caused that," she wondered aloud, giving her horse a swift kick to run after him.

Lumière was grateful she didn't see the look of satisfaction on his face, and he pocketed the extra rock he kept for safe keeping in the woods. The first one had done its job at keeping Cogsworth's mouth shut; it was better to save this one.

"Indeed, I can't imagine," he said with a smirk before he too followed them home.


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

For those concerned, the trio did manage to get home safely after stopping poor Cogsworth's horse just short of the gates.

Babette could hardly believe her eyes as she gazed up in wonder at the grandeur of what lie ahead. The castle before them rose majestically into the heavens from atop the small mountain it sat upon. Adorned with angels and stain glass windows, it was the jewel of the valley.

Leaving the horses with one of the stable boys, they opened the doors, entering the massive front hall. Deep reds and violets leapt from every curtain as they waved gently from the breeze which followed them inside. Beautifully cut marble floors lead to a number of paths! This wing, that wing, East and West, massive staircases leading to room upon room. It seemed as though once a person found each door, there was surely another somewhere.

"Here we are," Lumière announced cheerfully. "Home sweet home."

"And alive, thank goodness!" Cogsworth retorted. "That horse nearly killed me!"

Lumière shot him a look, teasing, "How? By giving your weakling heart a nerve attack?"

Cogsworth rose to his full height—which next to Lumière wasn't much—making him appear humorously intimidating. "Funny how it seemed a completely deliberate act, hmm?"

"Deliberate, yes, that is such a favorite word of yours, since _you_ can't do _anything_ wrong."

"At least I follow the master's rules."

"A basket is weaved less tight than you are around the master's little finger."

Poor Cogsworth looked very piqued. "You offend me! I am not some little yes man as you imply."

"_COGSWORTH_! Get in here _now_!!" came Vincent's young but booming voice as it echoed throughout the castle.

The head of the household had no sooner heard it before responding immediately. "Yes, master, right away!" he shouted running to meet the prince's demands.

Lumière grinned as he turned to Babette. "I believe that makes another victory for yours truly, numerous compared to his few, I assure you."

Babette smiled. "Is he always like that?"

He laughed. "No, that was actually a rather calm reaction; he could be much more paranoid at times."

Joining in the amusement, she replied, "Thank you for the warning."

"You are quite welcome, petit souris."

She raised an eyebrow, but much as she tried could not suppress her still present smile. "Again with the name? I seem to remember asking you not to call me that..."

Lumière nodded in mock realization. "Ah, oui, I forgot; no names just yet. Very well, whatever suits the lady best."

She nodded a thank you and was about to speak again when Cogsworth reappeared running as fast as he could.

"Can't talk! The master needs his lunch!" he interrupted as he passed them. "And as both maitre d' and his valet, it's part of _your_ job to help me with that!"

Lumière shook his head, looking at her somewhat regretfully. "Seems he needs me to save his neck as usual, and thus I must leave you."

"I think I can handle the thought of that," Babette replied simply.

His infamous smirk shone through. "I thought you would like that. But since I can't bear the thought of leaving a newcomer alone in such a huge place like this, I do know someone who could help you settle in; I'll send her right down." He bowed politely. "Until when next we meet, mademoiselle."

She nodded. "Until then."

Babette watched him leave, giving her head a shake. _You just met him, _she thought to herself, _no attachment! You don't want a man like that..._ That's right! No attachment, now nor ever. She was here to work, not fall for someone she had just met that morning, especially one like him.

Taking up her bags, she walked around the nearby halls in exploration, picked a door, and turned the knob. Darkness. She entered slowly, following the little light to the windows, and placed her bags down to pull them open. Turning into the now lit room, she found it to be, although very poorly kept, a little more home like than one would expect.

It was a typical den, desk in the corner, books on it and a few more on nearby shelves, and a large armchair in front of a fireplace. Babette moved towards the mantle to inspect it, performing the old white glove test. As she looked at her finger, however, she cringed that she had done so minus the white glove. Horribly in need of a dusting just as the rest of the room.

"Room number one on the list, dear?" a voice asked from behind her, and Babette turned to find an older woman, a few inches short of her own eye level, kind in her expression, and like Cogsworth, English from her accent.

"Absolument!" she replied. "This mantle probably shines beneath all of this dirt!"

The woman continued towards her, making a face as she saw the line Babette's finger had left and how dirty it still looked. "How right you are, it should have always been a top priority. It is one of the most lovely rooms in the castle, and 'tis a shame that it looks as it does."

"Well, we'll change that. Just give me a duster, rag, some citrus juice...and perhaps something to cover any faces that might have to breathe in here."

The woman laughed. "Right away then, but citrus juices?"

Babette nodded with a positive smile. "Ma mère taught me that; works every time, I assure you."

"I await a demonstration then," the woman concluded, admittedly impressed. "But pardon me, dear, I didn't catch your name. When Lumière informed me that you were waiting, I do not recall him saying."

_He must have forgotten after all his nicknames, _she thought sarcastically. "Babette, madame, enchanté."

"Likewise of course," she answered. "I'm Mrs. Potts, cook and housekeeper, and I hope, like a good friend, I could show you to your quarters. We have all learned that this place is easy to get lost in."

Babette laughed. "Indeed! I saw that the moment I stepped inside."

Mrs. Potts' kindly laughter joined in. "Babette, I do believe you will fit in just fine here. Now come with me and we'll get you unpacked and welcomed, right and proper."

Lumière and Cogsworth barely escaped Vincent's chambers having shut the door before an angrily thrown plate shattered behind it. Standing up from where they had jumped to safety, Lumière brushed himself off and nodded. "I think that went well, actually."

Cogsworth gaped at him, doing the same, as if the man had stated that he would run around the world and return by nightfall. "That...went...well? WELL?? What on EARTH makes you think that went well?!"

"He didn't hit us this time," Lumière replied casually.

Cogsworth groaned as they began walking away as quickly as possible. "I am surprised I have not dropped dead yet between that and the horse...which is still your fault."

"You can never say that you make mistakes like everyone else, can you?"

"Enough with that rubbish, man! The girl isn't here with us for the moment. You made that horse spook and nearly throw me to my death, all for the sake of hiding a reputation from her, just like your last interest...and the one before her...and the one before _her_..."

Lumière glared at him. "You made your point, oh ye of many records."

Cogsworth stopped suddenly and grabbed his companion tightly by the arms as if trying to shake some sense into him. "My friend, you fall head over heels for every female member of our species, admit it."

Lumière took a glance or two at the hold Cogsworth had on him. "I just might, but only after I ask you to remove your hands from my arms before I do so painfully for you."

He released him. "There, now say it; I am right, you are wrong."

Lumière gave him an expression that screamed indignant. "_I_ am right, _you_ are wrong; I do not fall head over heels for—" A girl passed them and his eyes followed her. "Michelle, cherie, how well you look!" Cogsworth turned his face back to him, and he cringed. "Oh no, you turned into Cogsworth!"

"Oh do shut your mouth for once! You just proved me right without even saying it." The man sighed in frustration, and he softened his words. "My friend who wrote me the recommendation talked a lot about her. She recently lost the only family she had left, and would not have made it if we had not taken her onto the staff. Please, _please_ just this once, make an exception and leave the girl _alone_. Just this once! She does not need any more pain."

Lumière looked very insulted. "What makes you think I would hurt her?"

Cogsworth groaned. "Oh for heaven's sake, Lumière, is that so much to ask?"

"All right, all right! No attachment, none at all."

The older man let out a relieved breath. "Thank you." Once again businesslike, he continued, "Now then, time to plan dinner; we can use all the time we can get after that episode."

Lumière nodded and followed. _No attachment; just this once._


	5. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

The days that followed went by fairly quickly, and each day, Babette went about the same routine. Up for breakfast at seven in order to have the master's ready by nine. Onto cleaning and random chores between then and lunch, and more of the same until dinner. Everyone returned to the servants' quarters no later than ten in the evening. Fairly simple and completely boring, at times an occasional mishap or out of the ordinary event managed to keep her sane, but it still did not get more interesting than that.

Lunch had just ended and she made her way to the den, which ever since her arrival, had been the one room she would work on every day. Anyone who knew of its appearance before her arrival could admit that it had definitely shown a pleasant change.

That late afternoon is where no sooner had she started cleaning then Lumière's all too familiar voice noted, "It is true then that you are the one who keeps this room irresistible to look in."

Babette startled for only a moment, but then groaned frustrated as she found him leaning in the doorway. "I'm so glad you approve." She attempted to hide the sarcasm as he was her superior in rank, but failed miserably.

"Who wouldn't? The room never looked better, and if I may say so, the same goes to the lady in charge of it."

"Flattery, hmm? You want something then; what it is?"

He laughed as usual. "Well you're welcome! I would have said something sooner, but when one makes herself avoidable, it is hard to say anything to her."

"I am not making myself avoidable; you can't keep up with me. _What_ do you _want_?"

He raised an amused eyebrow, simply ignoring the last part as if she had not even said it. "My dear girl, is that a challenge?"

Babette felt her temper gradually drop. "Without meaning to sound rude, I ask that you either tell me what you want or leave me alone. You have your place, monsieur—"

"Lumière," he corrected.

She growled, "Whatever, it doesn't matter! The point is you have your place, I have mine. Unless you ask me to clean up, get back to work, or the like, I want _nothing_ else to do with you. Now for a third time, _what do you want_?"

Lumière stared before circling her with an expression that Babette read as impassive and sickeningly thoughtful. When she saw that infuriating smirk of his once again, she rolled her eyes, admonishing herself for not seeing it inevitably coming.

"You, mademoiselle, are the most unusual little woman I've ever met."

"And you, monsieur, rank very high on life's exasperation scale."

Lumière kept the grin about his face. "All right, you have made it very clear that you want nothing to do with me."

"Clear as crystal."

"Then does that include any offer I have to make your work any more important?"

Babette slipped from angry to bewildered in a record one second. "What do you mean?"

"Our spring banquet is this coming weekend as you know. My wait staff is short a person to illness, and thus she will be unable to serve that evening. I WAS going to ask you to take her place, but since you want nothing to do with me, perhaps it was too silly a notion to consider."

Mentally, Babette marked this date one of the few times he said something worthwhile. "Actually, I would be honored to accept."

"Honored?" he laughed. "There is hope for me yet in your eyes."

"I never said that," she countered. "I want nothing to do with you personally, monsieur—"

"Lumière."

She sighed. "Fine, Lumière, nothing to do with you personally, but job related, that is another story. I will help if you still need it."

"My thanks, then, of course" he answered. "Please be in the kitchen no later than five o'clock." And with that, he moved to leave, but before he did, he turned and faced her with a smile. "Ambition...I like that." Then he was gone.

Babette let out a breath that she did not even know she was holding. What emotion took hold of her when she saw that smile of his? She was serious; she did not want anything to do with him. He was a real nuisance of a man...but le bon Dieu, he was a good-looking one. She took one deep breath to calm her thoughts; they wouldn't cross her mind anymore if she had any control of them. When you give your love to someone, make people such a part of your life as that, you lose them. She had already lost her family; never again would she go through with it.

The few touch ups Babette had made to her mother's dress were well done, and she herself was taken aback by it. Sewing was not her best talent, but the laces and subtle trinkets she added were done in such precision that she never would have guessed that she had worked on it.

Turning to the mirror, something that she had not done in a long time, Babette took a good look at what time had done to her, almost surprised at her reflection. Edging closer, she reached up and touched her growing hair gently, finding it long again since she hardly had time to cut it. She twisted a small lock in thought. Her mother always wore her hair like this, loose from ribbons, curled slightly, and lengthy, and it almost frightened the poor girl how much looking at a simple reflection made her realize that she looked like a reincarnation. But swallowing her nerves, she ran her hands over her skirt, smoothing any wrinkle out. "May I make you proud tonight, Maman..." she whispered.

Upstairs, the sound of guests arriving caught her ear, drifting her attention away from her thoughts. If dinner was to be on schedule, the servants would have to hurry, and checking herself one last time, she left her room, making her way to the kitchen to join the others. There, she found many she did and did not know, but smiled at the sight of Mrs. Potts calling her over from across the room.

"Babette, thank goodness you made it! We have to start getting everything out there!"

"I haven't a late record yet; I will not ruin that now, and on such an important night."

Mrs. Potts graced her with a smile. "Very good, in that case, you can help me finish arranging some of the plates, and then start bringing the glasses out."

As they started to work on the different plates of food, Cogsworth's authoritative voice rang loud and clear throughout the kitchen as he entered followed by Lumière.

"Look lively now, people!" he cried, "I will not tolerate any laziness this evening; nothing but flawlessness whatsoever!"

Mrs. Potts reassuringly comforted, "You are worrying too much once again; everything is under control, and it shall remain as such. Nothing to fear, everyone is getting a move on, thus the food will be ready before you know it."

Lumière walked forward, attempting to save them from any other thought that might have passed through Cogsworth's mind. "Ah yes it looks very good indeed! You have outdone yourself once again, Mrs. Potts."

She bobbed slightly with a smile. "My thanks as always for the compliment and for finding such lovely help."

Babette looked up, about to thank her, until Lumière's gaze caught hers. How was it that such a pest can look so wonderful? It had to be some kind of conspiracy!

Lumière noticed her as well, and how could he not? Somehow she always managed to look more extraordinary every day. As he walked towards her, she rose from where she was bent over a few appetizers, resembling the doe they had seen that day: an innocent creature on the defense of a possible predator. Lifting her hand from the trays, reveling at how soft they were even after much hard work, he bowed politely, as if she was some aristocratic lady. He felt his lips beg to kiss it but thought better of such an action remembering how this particular woman could be.

"You really...uh..." He could not believe it, stuttering in front of a female, something he had never done before in his life. "You..." Mon Dieu, he wanted to say how he admired her, thought she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, shower her with anything she wanted to hear! But his nerves got the best of him this time. "You...know how to arrange food as well?"

Babette, again mystically hopeful for a kind word, felt her interest plummet instantly and frowned. "I was only trying to help." Why did her hand wish to stay in his, she wondered...how warm they felt...

"Well!" Mrs. Potts to the rescue, sensing the discomfort in the situation. "He is right; the plates do look splendid. Babette, you have my thanks."

"Not at all, just so long as they are done," Babette replied, at last freeing her hand to take up a tray of wineglasses. "And now it seems like out of the frying pan and into the fire. Should you need more help, please send someone to find me."

"Will do. Now don't forget, smile, be polite, and don't be nervous."

Babette gave her a grateful look. Mrs. Potts was the sweetest person there; every servant knew they could go to her for anything. She could have hugged her then and there. "Well...wish me luck."

"You won't need it; you will do just fine! Now run along."

She nodded and looked back at Lumière, wanting to force a dangerous grimace on him, but could not. Instead, she could only respond, "Excusez moi, monsieur."


	6. Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

Good gracious was the ballroom packed in that evening! Guests and servants alike made their rounds to the others present in the lavishly decorated room, even more beautiful in times of celebration. Freshly grown flowers and various banners of fabric could have made a full tapestry, connecting each and every wall, and as beautiful music began to fill the air, the gala began.

As Babette kept at her tasks, Lumière stood by watching her intently, pausing only briefly time and again to do his own. A few months at most she had been here, and in that time, he could not get her off of his mind.

He would be the first to acknowledge there was not one young woman in the castle that did not know Lumière personally. Romance and charm were his specialties, and while he had admired them all, love was never in the cards. Say a few pretty words, steal moments alone, and enjoy life while you could. That's how it always was. If love happened, so be it, but he had no intention to be on the hunt for it. Admiration without adoration one might say.

But this one time, things had change. Babette did not succumb to his charm like the others. She had a free spirit in her, making her the single most fascinating woman he'd ever known. Girls were pretty and demure; she was exquisite, ambitious, and passionate. He tensed with fret every time he'd attempt to speak the habitual words of love to her. Not like she listened, he mused, but he had to keep trying, couldn't let this one get away.

Excusing himself to get through the crowded room, he waited until she took a break and placed the glass tray on a cart to sit for a moment, then stood beside her, following her eyes to the dancers.

"Wish you could be out there?"

Babette growled quietly, "He says as if I would have _wanted_ him to know."

"Even so, you should know that I'm here...ready to be the envy of every man in this room..."

"In case you have not noticed, I am attempting to do the work you yourself requested of me," she responded sharply and taking up the tray again, looked for any means out of this conversation.

Of course, he just had to follow and she rushed to stay one step ahead of him, hissing through her teeth, "Will you please give me one moment's peace without you?"

"Funny how we want similar yet different things; I'd love for a moment's peace _with_ you."

That did it! For a moment, Babette thought of nothing but how much of a nuisance he was. "Will you just leave me alone?!" she retaliated loudly spinning on her heel to let him see her anger. However the heel had different plans, and as she turned, slipped from under her, taking her and the tray down with it.

It took her a few seconds to recover, but Babette felt no pain as she noticed nothing but where her tray had gone. In horror, she stared at the glass strewn at the feet of Vincent and a few of his guests, wine drenching their clothes.

Hurriedly offering a few rags, Babette rambled, her words shaking with every syllable. "Master, I am so sorry...I beg your forgiveness...I slipped and...but..."

The young man, while a few years her junior, looked at her with disgust and anger. "You clumsy wench!! Have you any sense of what you are doing?!"

"No, master, I admit I did not watch where I was going...I beg for your mercy..."

He snatched the rags harshly from her. "Leave my sight, and don't step foot in this room for the rest of the evening. You will be lucky if you even have a place to stay and work by morning!"

Lumière cringed in guilt but stepped forward nonetheless. "Master, really, it was an accident; she slipped, and..."

"SILENCE!" Vincent stared them down as both lowered their eyes. "How dare you interrupt me...I ought to rid this place of you both! My word is set in stone." Turning to Babette, he concluded, "I said, do not come back in here; do you have capability of understanding that?!"

Babette swallowed a sob that had reached her throat, nodded as bravely as she could, and immediately ran from the room, the silence breaking into chatter the moment she did. After helping clear away the glass, Lumière soon did the same to find her.

For one who could spot a girl in a meager second, it surprised Lumière that it took him quite a while to find where Babette had run to. He looked everywhere, rooms that she frequented, her quarters, and all proved a failed effort. Whatever it was that possessed him to go outside, however, he followed his instincts, and upon hearing sobs coming from the stables, traced them to where he knew he would find her.

Once inside, he found her on the loft, and climbing up the ladder, he caught her attention despite his attempt to be quiet.

"What are you doing here?" Babette snapped ruthlessly through her tears. "Can't I just have a moment to myself?"

Lumière sat next to her, for once not his normal optimistic self. "Since you left some time ago, time's up; you already had your moment."

Babette hid her face on her knees. "Just leave me alone; you have done enough."

Too bad she had done that, or else she finally would have seen this man with something that did not resemble a smile. Guiltily, he replied, "Listen...I did not intend for that to happen. I was foolish, and taking full responsibility, I am truly sorry."

She raised her eyes to him, wiping them again. "What?"

"I apologize."

"I think...I think that was the nicest thing you ever said to me."

Lumière smiled tenderly as she seemed to be feeling better. "First for everything." He reached into his coat pocket, took out a handkerchief, and affectionately reached for her eyes. "There, now dry the tears; the most depressing thing in the world is seeing such a gorgeous creature like yourself cry."

Babette nodded her gratitude, allowing him to rid herself of the remaining tears, and then took a deep breath. "I will just be lucky if I still have somewhere to stay tomorrow morning."

"Believe me, you will; I will see to that personally," he promised. "The master may not be the easiest person to deal with but trust me, I will pull every string I have to get you to stay here. You're not going anywhere."

As he saw her smile, Lumière felt his worry very well start to vanish. Maybe there was hope for them after all. "Now then, if you do not mind, could we possibly go back inside? It is still a little cold out here and as I can feel a talk coming on, this is not the most appealing place to do so."

She nodded again and followed him down the ladder, allowing him to lead her back inside.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven 

The ball lasted late into the night, and once the last guest had left, Vincent was indeed ready to deal with the girl who had made a complete fool out of him. His search was less successful than Lumière's was as he looked in every room.

Turning knob after knob, he stumbled inside the den. Not what one would normally consider a victorious discovery, but in this case, that is exactly what it was. He found himself in a state of amazement as he entered. It had been a long time since he had seen it, and with what little interaction he had with his lower servants, the last he knew was that no one had touched it.

Placing his candlestick on the mantle, he looked around, very impressed with the care someone had taken with it. The wood of the fireplace appeared brand new, and he saw that it was cherry wood, something he had never known before. The gold and glass shimmered as the flame of his candle danced off different surfaces, and he knelt to touch the rug, soft once again after being cleaned thoroughly.

And then he saw his father's chair, the one that he had always sat in whenever his father invited him in. So many fond memories were there, and he was pleased to see it in such good condition. Slowly he approached it, sat down, and bit his lip. Men did not cry, but it felt so wonderful to be back in this room. The heart everyone thought was made of stone would melt long enough to thank the person who had done all this work.

With a firm, loud voice, he called for Cogsworth, receiving the usual response of his running into the room.

"You called, master?" he asked as he caught his breath.

"Who has been responsible for this room?"

"No one officially, sir, but Babette has seen to it for some time now."

"The girl from this evening?"

"Yes, master."

Vincent rose from the chair, glancing around the room once more before he stood. "We must find her; come."

Cogsworth showed no hesitation in obeying.

"She had the nerve to get rid of you that very same day?"

The voices traveled out into the hall from the servants' quarters as Lumière listened to Babette's story.

"The very same," she replied, "She had the ridiculous thought to 'get it all done in one day', thus I was gone just moments after."

"She is very lucky she is not a man, or else she would be hearing from me."

Babette laughed. "Not much you would be able to do, but I appreciate the thought. But...what about you? I've been the only one telling stories."

Lumière shrugged as he looked up at her from his place on the floor, while she made herself comfortable on the chaise, much resembling a child ready to hear a story before going to sleep. "There is not much to tell."

"Not much but a small something at least?"

He thought for a moment. "Well...a lot like you really, born into this life and raised on it. Worked very hard to get up to the ranks I am now; that is honestly all there is."

Babette snorted a disbelieving laugh. "Oh come on, a man like you not have stories to impress a woman? Show her what a glorious creation you are? Why do I seriously doubt that?"

Lumière smirked. "If the woman in question can not see that without such tales, there is no hope for her."

Both could hardly believe that she was finally mirroring the expression she commonly despised the most. It had turned into something familiar that could always be depended on to happen... not so annoying anymore...

"To quote you, monsieur, the woman in question is, how did you say, 'something else'?"

He sat up to be somewhat at her eye level, holding her eyes in the stare that made each of them desperate to look into the other's for eternity. "Completely true in a number of ways."

Babette took a deep breath; different emotions racing as he drew closer, she could scarcely speak coherent thoughts. "And...how so?"

As she moved to allow him onto the chaise, Lumière hardly believed what he was feeling. He was ready to confess it, at least to himself...he loved this woman, worshipped her...wanted her more than any he had ever known. Slowly, he let his hand touch her cheek, stroking coaxingly to calm her when she startled nervously.

"There are ways to tell you...but there are better ways...to show you."

Part of her was screaming to stop him, but she could not seem to listen. Letting her eyes slide shut, she felt his lips form a smile before stealing a long awaited kiss. All rhyme and reason gone, she melted into his arms as he held her intimately close.

Only the door opening across the room brought them back to any sense of reality. Babette pulled away, racing to get as far away from him as possible but dying to be near him again, while Lumière stood incoherently, seeing no one else but her.

Vincent and Cogsworth stood in the doorway, the first immediately clearing the sight from his mind, while the latter glared at Lumière. He was quite familiar with a scene like this, for he had witnessed a handful of them before. When none of the three spoke, Vincent began questioning instantly. "Your name...it is Babette isn't it?"

Babette could not take her gaze from Lumière's. "Oui, master; 'tis an honor you remembered."

"Look at me when I speak to you," he commanded firmly, in which she gave not one moment's hesitation in obeying, returning quickly to reality. "I've heard that you are the one that continuously works on the den, is that correct?"

She nodded.

"Then...I simply wanted...to thank you," he replied quietly. Showing courtesy and gratitude to a servant was not the easiest thing to do. "Should you continue to work at it, then...forget what I said earlier this evening."

Babette could not contain a small grin. "Of course, master, I am truly grateful..."

Vincent held the authority tone. "You should be; now all of us, along to bed before I realize my actions were not uncalled-for and change my mind." With that he left, followed by Cogsworth, who gave them both one last look of disapproval.

Silence hung in the air for a minute or two when she felt Lumière move closer again after being assured that both were gone. "Well now...as I said, you do not appear to be going anywhere...merci le bon Dieu..."

Babette smiled as she met him halfway. "For once, you have guessed correctly; will you ever cease to amaze me?"

He reached to embrace her again, allowing his lips to meet her own once more before answering, "I hope not..."

A sighing breath escaped her as she allowed him access to her hands, cheek and throat. Never had she felt anything so wonderful that she ached for more...love...ache...hurt...pain...

"Lumière. Don't...just...stop."

He stopped instantaneously. "Babette? Ma cherie, what's wrong? What is it?"

She turned, taking as many deep breaths as she needed to cool herself down. "I...can't do this. I just can't. I...am happy for your friendship; it is appreciated." She swallowed, having to order herself to look at him. "But that is all we can have; I don't want what you want."

"What? I don't understand..."

"Do not try. This is not meant to happen, it can't. Love cannot happen to me, not again. I don't want it. All I want is to stop before either of us is hurt." Why was this so difficult now? "You have your place, and I have mine, remember? Nothing less, nothing more."

Lumière could not believe this. He thought this was it, she was the one to share everything with, that he could tell her how he really felt. "Then...what was before...before they came?"

"A moment of infatuation...it will not happen again," she replied quickly. "I am very glad you were able to show me that we could be good friends if we try, but that is all I want...and all you have to know."

In all the time he had known her, he learned one simple thing. He could read her every thought through her eyes, and right then, they were frightened. What of, he still did not understand; all he knew is that he would give her anything she requested, and hence, he walked closer until there was hardly any room between them. He had to try one more time to see if this was what she truly wished. Listening as her breathing deepened, trying to stay calm and composed, he kissed her thoroughly, waiting to feel her reaction.

Why did he have to do that? Babette tried to conjure every bit of will power she had inside, no matter how incredible this was. She had made a vow to herself first never to allow such strong feelings into her life again, and this love was stronger than anything she had felt before. The pain of losing her mother would be tenfold if she ever lost this man. It had to end now, and she moved her hands around to push herself away.

Lumière obeyed her silent demand reluctantly. Her gorgeous eyes now showed fear, longing, and want, but he knew it was over. Retreating entirely, he held her hand, heartbroken, watching her tears flow, and had to repeatedly remind himself that this is what she desired.

"Very well, mademoiselle," he said quietly. "I bid you good night...until when next we meet."

Once he walked through the door, he did not turn back.


	8. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

Time is the eternal visitor that always leaves as soon as it arrives. In a flash, the warmth of summer swept over the valley, and the leaves aged their short life. The last heat wave singed their soft green hues, turning them red, orange, yellow. In a very short while, they would be ready to fall.

Nearly a year since her arrival, Babette realized. As the clock struck the morning hour, she looked out her open window. Exhausted, she forced herself out of bed, and walked to close it, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. The heat wave would end soon, according to the morning chill.

What would her mother have said if she saw her today? She could not help but wonder when her eyes caught a vague reflection in the dew frosted panes. Physically, nothing had changed; she did not look or feel a year older.

But common knowledge tells us that there are two sides to humans, and the second side, emotions, is divided between two bitter enemies: the mind and the heart. She betrayed her heart and followed her mind, and Babette turned away when she could not endure the sight of herself any longer.

The thought of the feelings that had taken hold over the past year was too much. Babette was undoubtedly in love despite the number of times she denied it, but she was too afraid to allow herself to act on these affections. Never again would she let herself be tricked onto a road that only led to heartache.

She took a brush to her hair when she found the strength to look at the mirror. After what she had done to him the night of the gala, she would never have the chance to reconsider changing her mind. Lumière's words rushed back to her. "Until when next we meet..." It seemed the longest "until" since they met. If the pair did see or speak to one another, it was a brief glance in the hallway or an order for her to carry out. Babette sighed, frustrated; the man had at last given her what she asked for in the beginning: a strict, clearly defined superior/employee relationship.

If only that was actually what she wanted now. That glorious night, he had allowed her to be right, let her have the final word, admitted that he was wrong. He was not a braggart or pest, and she had found the man she hoped he was. A kind, open heart that would welcome her in whenever she needed a friend; a shoulder to cry on when she was upset. Arms that would gladly remind her that she was loved...a kiss that would warm her on a morning like this.

But she banished the dreamy vision quickly, taking a deep breath and focusing on the mirror. It did not matter anymore, sitting in front of the glass, thinking about what could have been. Opportunity was tired of waiting for her to answer the door. It was too late.

The entrance hall's marble floor, the only reason worth being there was seeing the beauty of the room as one worked. All servants of the cleaning rank hated washing the massive sea of tiles, and Babette was definitely not an exception. Alas that is where Mrs. Potts found her, bent over a bucket of soapy water, sleeves rolled up, and scrubbing away.

Always the cheerful soul, the woman smiled sympathetically. "Why on earth do you only have a bucket and a scrub brush for this floor?"

Babette turned attention to her and sighed as she wiped away any beads of sweat from her forehead. She took a deep breath, readjusting her hair, pushing it inside her cap; only two cumbersome loose curls presented any proof of its true length. "Someone must have gotten the last mop before I did. Too slow this morning, I guess, but it was not my fault. Veronique, the little con artist, conveniently asked for the afternoon off when it is her turn to clean it."

Mrs. Potts sat with her, taking up another brush. "May I offer any help then?"

Babette smiled. "Gladly, I could use all the help I can get. But please, Mrs. Potts, in the future, remind me to kick myself if I ever agree to take on her duties aside from my own."

The English woman laughed amused. "She has been known to plan her days off very well. Ever since she was a child, she could find her way out of anything she did not want to do."

Babette smirked. "She will get hers one day; I can promise that."

Both shared one more laugh before a knock came at the door startling them both, and they rose instantly. Babette shook her head as she moved to answer it. "I will never get used to that."

As she opened it, she moved aside to allow the visitor in; the woman was dressed so extravagantly that Babette curtsied out of instinct. Jewels adorned her throat and immensely aristocratic styled hair, and her shapely figure was encased in the most beautiful dress the girl had ever seen. Thankfully Mrs. Potts was the first to speak as she found herself speechless, and both elder women embraced like giddy schoolmates.

"My dear friend, what are you doing here?" she asked happily, "We thought it was back to the opera? You did seem to miss it so!"

The woman gave a hearty soprano laugh, and one could have sworn that she preferred to sing her words rather than speak. "Of course I did, but that was then and this is now. I've made my return to the stage, but 'twas time to come home. My stars, I wrote to Cogsworth a week ago saying that I would be back. Things must have certainly changed in this old place if everyone did not get word of it yet!" She gave a dramatic heave of a sigh, and smiled. "But it is good to be here; I will surely want to be on the stage again soon but for now, this is the place to be."

"Thank goodness! Sakes alive, we missed you!" Mrs. Potts replied gleefully before she noticed Babette standing back respectively. "Oh dear, where are my manners? This is Babette, our newest addition; she joined us almost a year ago."

Babette slowly came forward, "Enchantée, it is a pleasure."

The woman replied kindly, "Likewise of course!"

"And this," Mrs. Potts continued, "Is Madame de la Grande Bouche. She was lady-in-waiting to the master's late mother as well as the resident court singer. Left us for a time though to perform at the opera house in Paris."

"Madame for short, dearie," she added.

Babette looked back at the woman suddenly. "Oh mon Dieu, now I remember! You did look familiar! My mother had to escort our former mistress to the opera once. I was young and wanted to follow, so I climbed into the back of the carriage." She smiled again, clearly star struck by the time she revealed her childish act. "You were wonderful!"

Madame looked at Mrs. Potts proudly. "I think I like this girl already; knows the finest when she sees them. But I say, how about we three get my things to a room and then enjoy the last heat wave of summer outside?"

Babette quickly grabbed any bag she could. "Yes, let's!"

Mrs. Potts gave her a puzzled grin. "Dear, are you certain you want to leave the floors as they are?"

Babette gave them smirk that screamed vengeance. "_I_ know that Veronique took the afternoon off; I never said that _Cogsworth_ knows. She made me swear not to tell, and when she comes back with an unfinished hall and unexcused absence, revenge is mine. Let's go."

Onlookers who happened to notice the picnic that followed would have thought the three women lifelong friends. Laughing, jesting, and enjoying themselves, no one could have imagined the reunion and introductions happened only minutes before. At last, Babette thought, she could feel content and relaxed for the first time in so long as she started in on an apple. This was just the thing she needed to forget...

"Lumière!" Madame announced through a slice of melon. "How has that boy been? Still as love crazed as ever?"

Too good to be true, that is what it was; too good to be true and a conspiracy all at once, she thought chewing apple fiercely. With a silencing gesture from Mrs. Potts, Madame nodded in realization. "Another victim, eh?"

Babette rested on her stomach, arms crossed, feet swinging high in the air, the perfect gossip position. "Thankfully stopped before I could be, merci." She bit into her apple. "The man is a self centered, annoying, womanizing Don Juan." Now if only she could believe her words.

Madame concluded knowing, "And you could not have a bigger interest in him."

Babette sighed, "Is it that obvious?"

Mrs. Potts agreed. "Beyond obvious, you have the wistful eyes."

Madame grinned slyly. "More than that, I think. She is long gone, which is impressive. Not one young lady has made it to long gone when it comes to Lumière."

Babette went at the apple brutally and rolled her eyes. "Don't I just feel like the most lucky girl in the world! Turned him down so I do not have a _prayer _of seeing him now. Besides, love is always out to get a person, fading over time, risk of losing the one you care for in any means. I've learned that the hard way."

Madame nodded and looked at Mrs. Potts, a look of scheming in her eyes. "Do you remember his parents? Remember anything at all?"

Mrs. Potts grinned a bit, following along. "Indeed, a situation much like this in fact."

Babette glanced from one to the other with a knowing look. "I know that tone all too well; just come right out with it."

Madame laughed, "And she is smart too!" Minimizing to a smile, she continued. "To be perfectly honest, the man is just like his father. Louis, was as much of a charmer as his son is today, mirror images in personality. His mother, Mercedes, still took the risk of loving him. She was always telling us that she was worried she would lose him, but deep down, she knew she did not have to...to have and to hold as the vow goes. Never losing him to any one or thing, not even death."

Mrs. Potts nodded. "Like father like son, he has his eyes set on _some_one...all she has to do is concede."

Babette was silent as she finished. "He...he really is still interested?"

"From what I have heard."

"Then...then I guess I will...will..." Stuttering was all she could do until something caught her eye. Her gaze fixed passed the ladies on the topic of their conversation...with a woman at his side, Veronique to be precise...no wonder she wanted the afternoon off! Babette could feel her face burning and her eyes grow menacing before she finished, "I will just let him keep looking."

By the time the ladies had turned, the pair had made their way close enough for a greeting.

Lumière laughed brightly. "Never mind what I said before, chérie; it seems I am in the presence of not only one lovely lady but four." He reached his hand out to Madame. "Et quelle surprise it is to see you home, mon étoile d'opéra."

"Lumière, you have every young female in the castle waiting on you," Madame laughed, "Why try for me as well?"

"Every woman is in good company with me, Madame, you know that," he said with a polite kiss to the hand. "I just may not be in good company with them." Looking up again, he caught Babette's gaze, the infamous smirk entering in full force.

Trying to be as kind and courteous as she could, Babette offered, "And which might those be? Surely monsieur does not mean me?"

Lumière bluntly laughed. "You know very well I mean you, my silly girl; just now, your expression gave away a hint of jealousy, I think. You would not be jealous of someone you could care less about, yes?"

He had the _nerve_ to openly embarrass her in front of everyone? "For once, you are right. Jealous! Why on earth would I be? When one does not want love, the thought is simply ridiculous," she attempted nonchalantly.

"And yet, your defense suggests that you are!"

Babette bit her lip to quell her harsh words as long as she could, but one more look at her female opponent, her manner of dress and appearance, and how he could so suddenly want her instead was enough to shatter everything. To hell with courteous, being the better person; not after this!

She stepped forward, her eyes blazing vehemence with a tone to match. "Two can play your game, you have said so yourself, but now you are playing against me. Consider yourself challenged."

Excusing herself, Babette stormed inside searching for the sewing box in her room as well as every dress she owned. Soon finding a pair of thread scissors, she picked up a dress, placing the skirts in her lap. Lifting the scissors to it, she knew she had a long night ahead of her. It did not matter though; this was war.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

By choice or otherwise, foolishness constantly manages to descend upon a person at least once in their lifetime, and that is why within each group of men, there is always one fool. Like a plaguing disease, it strikes suddenly without its victim having any idea of its attack, and of course, its favorites to beset are those in the midst of love. It never passes the chance to get in the way of those poor souls.

That was Lumière's excuse the next few days for his actions. Why he had ever offered to take Veronique on the walk, he could not even remember; that was simply how things were done. One girl turns you down, you find another for the time being. All he did know was that when others saw him so silent, it was obvious that a mistake had been made. Everyone, especially Cogsworth, who greeted him on this new morning, knew that such a manner was unusual for him.

"I suppose I would be correct to assume that you have completely humiliated yourself...again," he asked as they walked to the kitchen.

"Humiliation is an understatement," Lumière replied. "I, mon ami, am the biggest imbecile on the face of the earth." He paused briefly to smother any response Cogsworth had with his hand. "And I am not looking for any agreement; I know it perfectly well. Besides, how did you find out?"

Once his poor mouth was released from the hand's custody and their walk continued, Cogsworth explained, "Is there anything that happens in this place that someone does not find out about sooner or later? Veronique told me the whole story once I questioned why the floors were not complete; they have to be spotless you know. I kept silent with you, deciding that you had enough consequences to deal with." He added regretfully, "I hoped I would not have to say this, but I told you so."

"You lie; you love when you can say that."

"It is your own fault, nevertheless; the idea of you two was a surefire disaster from the start."

Lumière growled, "I _know _that. I made a mistake, and I will atone for it. This is far from over; I am simply giving her some time to plan her strategy. You do that when someone declares war on you."

Cogsworth looked at him confused, "War? What on earth are you talking about?"

If he was in a better mood, Lumière would have been humored. "Oh I did not mention it? She has "challenged" me; I do not know how yet, but she has."

His stout companion raised his exasperated eyes to the heavens. "Lord save us all! Is there anything you can do without causing trouble?"

"Oh calm yourself, Cogsworth. Just give her a few days and the whole matter will fly right by, I'm sure of it. Soon, very soon, things will be as calm as they were."

"Heaven forbid it; 'things', as you say, were never calm between you to begin with."

"I'll see it to that they will be better then, you'll see."

Cogsworth subtly crossed himself. There was more of a chance of disastrous becoming chaos whenever Lumière said words like that, but as they pressed on, his attention moved away from him having caught a scene of slackers. Male and female, close knit, and ignoring work. Typical!

"You would think that was you," he muttered to his associate in disgust before he commanded, "All right, all right, enough of that!" They turned around. "There is obviously a time for work and a time for--"

Both Cogsworth and Lumière stopped dead in their tracks. The man was Guilliame, one of the downstairs servants. The lady?

"Babette?" both men confirmed, barely believing it.

Sure enough it was, but not the one they knew. Her dress was cut, raised so the hem hardly covered her knees. Had she been wearing anything to fluff the skirt more, it would have surpassed rebellion to the status of scandal. The sleeves were gone, leaving what resembled a white strap that silkily draped around the base of her shoulder, and her hair gathered laxly inside her cap. In any other situation, Cogsworth still would have found this preposterous, Lumière would have thought it a dream.

The older man, as he frequently did, broke the noiseless moment of tension. "I. Am. Truly. Shocked. The last person that I would expect this from was—"

Babette yawned loudly interrupting him, "Little old me, Cogsworth, I know." Glancing at Guilliame, she purred, "Later, mon cher; seems I've been caught and must be put on trial. You know where to find me tonight, run along." After he left, she turned on Lumière, slowly breaking into a smile. "Well, well...merci le Dieu, I have the master of these moments here. Surely you understand, don't you, monsieur, and I pray you teach me how to avoid consequences for...hmm, how shall I say it, sharing your affections publicly? But of course you must have gotten out of many—and I do mean _many_—of such situations before."

Lumière spoke silently slow. "Cogsworth, by all means, let me handle this."

On any other occasion, his answer would have been no, but this time, Cogsworth decided in favor of agreement. This may have been just the thing to end this little feud of theirs and bring the girl to her senses about what she had made herself into. "Very well, she is all yours."

"Doesn't he wish," Babette murmured before she felt herself be dragged away into another room. She hardly had time to realize what had happened before she heard the door shut.

"Have you gone out of your head, woman? Are you mad?!" Lumière hissed quietly.

"Mad?" she argued, "Mad, oui, at you for everything you have done to me!"

"All I have done to you? For caring, wanting to love you?"

"For cheating!"

"Firstly, cheating would require a real agreement en amour, thus I was far from it! Secondly, may I remind you that you have not been a picnic either!"

Babette stared him down, and she shoved her finger into his chest in accusation. "You, monsieur, have lead me on since the beginning, if you remember. Little names, attempted flirtations, and even kindness! You try to make me believe that you could truly love me, throw me aside when I can not return it, and then to see you with that little...little...!"

Lumière pushed her finger aside. "I would not be using such names or even thinking them at present if I were you, mademoiselle; if you would care to find a mirror you would see what I mean."

She wasted no time in slapping him square across the face. "How dare you!"

He did not even flinch...well visibly. "How dare I? As a matter of fact, I _do_ remember! I remember you returning the favor of leading on. The night of the ball _you_ made _me_ believe that wanted what we had, and then turn me away the minute it frightens you!"

"I have told you repetitively that I did not want love; you brought me to infatuation and I lost my sense of mind. But of course, the minute you could not have me, you went to another; typical of your kind!"

"Until you consent to be mine, I am free as a bird to do as I wish; all you have to do is say yes."

"Which I will never do!"

Lumière took a deep breath. "God take pity on the man that weds you."

Babette laughed. "No man will ever own me. I will forever be an exact female replica of yourself, and it will drive you senseless knowing I am the only one you cannot have. Now if you will excuse me," She shoved passed him before she continued. "I have a date tonight at the tavern, and I do intend to enjoy myself. They are a play land for a girl like me."

He growled, "What kind? A vixen?"

She stopped suddenly before turning to face him. "Oh, I almost forgot...something to remember me by." At once, she raised her right hand to slap him, but he managed to stop it.

"Ha! Missed!"

If he paid attention before celebrating, he would have seen her left hand coming for him and unfortunately make contact.

"Ha! Did not!"

"Sacre bleu, woman, you are going to make me bleed!"

"Grow up!"

After she slammed the door behind her, Lumière growled in frustration, only checking for a moment to see if his lip was actually bleeding. No such luck. She was impossible, he decided, just plain impossible. Why he was going to follow her tonight was beyond his knowledge, but then he was after all a fool, a stubborn, protective fool.

"Put me down!"

Tracking the game was the easy part, although carrying her in an arm-flailing tantrum was anything but, especially when one bruised, battered and beaten. Babette's attacks and shrieks did not help Lumière as he threw her onto her horse before climbing on painfully behind her.

"There, I put you down; now stop hitting me," he winced. "You have caused me enough pain for one day."

"You brought this upon yourself," she huffed indignantly, focusing on the path ahead. "You deserve every bit of it from the fight you started."

"Oh I do apologize," he drawled sarcastically. "I seem to have forgotten that protecting someone from a man who had just a bit too much to drink was a crime worthy of a scolding. Next time, I swear I will let him do as he pleases."

Babette grew silent. Unwanted advances had met her that evening, and she should have expected it. Much as she hated to admit it, if he had not followed her, circumstances could have gotten a lot worse. But neither one said anything more as they very quietly returned to the castle. It was against regulations to be out this late at night, and costs for their actions would not be given lightly.

Without a single sound, Babette helped the injured Lumière to the servants' quarters.

"Sit down," she ordered, looking for cloths and water to tend to his badges of courage. On finding them, she sat beside him touching a wet cloth to his bleeding lip, and he cringed at the stinging sensation.

"Mon Dieu, what is supposed to hurt more?" Lumière winced painfully. "The actual fight or the healing process?"

"Oh stop that, you are worse than a child," she replied as if reprimanding. Soaking another cloth in some cold water, she handed it to him, ordering to keep it on his eye. "Well, I suppose, that I did make you bleed this evening after all; for that, I am sorry."

Lumière laughed gently in fear of more pain. "As a lady I know said on one occasion, that was probably the nicest thing you ever said to me."

She smiled. "I think I know her too, quite well actually."

"Thought you would," he responded, swallowing more pain before gazing at her with his one good eye. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stay angry with her. "I am...rather fond of her."

Babette frowned. "Lumière...not again."

Lumière grew serious. "Listen, no more beating around the bush, or any beating at all, I've had enough for one night. We both acted irrationally, and I am sorry for any pain I caused you. But I will be honest...I adore everything about you, ever since I first laid eyes on you. These feelings I have are the strongest I've felt, and seeing you with someone else tonight...I swore my heart ripped to shreds. Babette...I want to start over. If we must begin as friends, then so be it, but I could never live with myself if I do not try one last time."

Babette ran her hand through her hair nervously. "But...I can't."

"How will you know if you never give us a chance?" He paused for a moment. "All right, here is the deal. Tomorrow night, you and me--hear me out--half past nine, simply a nice evening. If you do not enjoy yourself whatsoever, then I will drop all efforts to be any more than friends. If you do, then we will take things from there." He held out his hand. "What say you?"

The only thing she attested her ready agreement to this plan was the need to show him that she was grateful. Taking his hand in a shake, she nodded, "I guess we have a bargain."

With smiles at last on both sides, Babette could not help but laugh as she pressed the rag to his lip again. "You know you really did look humorous this evening; you against a huge, admittedly handsome and undoubtedly drunk man in a fight? You had no chance!"

Only their laughter to follow would have woken anyone for the rest of the evening, neither knowing what was to come of the next.


	10. Chapter Ten

_Chapter Ten_

"Absolutely not!" 

From the windowsill, birds scattered in all directions at the booming sounds of Cogsworth's shouting. He did not even turn to face Lumière as the latter followed him throughout the castle.

"One night, mon ami, just one! I don't have to meet with her until half past nine, and the master goes to his chambers at least an hour before that. I just need time to get everything planned and ready! Faint work never won fair lady, to rephrase the saying."

Cogsworth spun on his heel so suddenly that Lumière barely missed tripping over him. "You love struck twit! The entire point of you talking to her yesterday was to take her mind out of that horrible state you forced her into, not to arrange a romantic rendezvous!"

"Your wish may still have yet to come true."

Cogsworth scoffed, "Rubbish, you will do everything in your power to see that she falls madly in love with you."

"Cogsworth please!" Lumière begged, staying close behind him as he started walking once again. "One night off for us both to see exactly how she feels; I have no intention of forcing her into anything."

"As if I have not heard it all before; the answer is no!"

Lumière's mind was racing. "Extra work for a month?"

"No."

"Yours and the master's eternal beckoning call?"

"No!"

Lumière stood in front of him blocking his escape. "You leave me no choice then. I give my word that no matter how Babette feels, I swear off all other women forever, either in loyalty or of a broken heart."

Cogsworth gawked in disbelief. "Dear Lord, man, you are seriously obsessed over this..."

"No, just madly in love." Lumière put one hand over his heart and raised the other. "I mean everything I said; no woman but her."

Cogsworth stuttered in shock for a moment as he threw in a desperate expression to follow his plea, but it was no use. He swallowed the lump in his throat building up the effort to reply. "You are the biggest fool on the face of the earth, Lumière. Why in the world would you be telling me this...when...you will need all your courage to tell her tonight?"

Lumière laughed heartily as he swept the poor man into the air. "Cogsworth, you soft hearted saint, I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

"Let _you_ down?! Rethink that statement and let _me_ down, you ninny!"

"You won't regret this, I swear!" Lumière shouted shortly after releasing him, running to get everything ready.

Cogsworth groaned. "Can't live with him, and just can't kill him."

"I can't do this...can't and won't," Babette muttered silently, bracing herself against a wall, pausing to wince as Madame laced her tiny figure into a corset. "Would he believe I am too sickly to go through with this?"

Madame laughed. "The finest actress could not teach you how to do that--take a breath, dearie--he would see right through the lie."

When the lace was tied, Babette looked miserably at the glass as she ferociously brushed her hair. "You make the idea sound like a bad thing."

Madame took the brush, giving her a comforting glance through the mirror as she took over. "You are going to straighten every curl if you keep at it so roughly."

"I think he likes my hair curled; do you think it would stop his interest if I did straighten it?"

"Straight or curled, it is too late to avoid his attentions; now relax, everything will be fine," Madame insisted while she gathered every lock, pinning them to one side. When Babette pouted at her reflection, she asked, "You don't like it? I could just pull it back."

She shook her head. "No, don't...it's perfect."

"Then why the face?"

Babette rose to get her mother's dress, the single one she had not attacked with the scissors blade. "That is just the problem," she explained, buttoning it up. "It's perfect! Everything is going to be perfect! That's what I'm afraid of. Why can no one understand that?"

Madame listened as she brought over her shoes and cloak. "Babette, listen to me. There is no reason to be afraid of accepting love that anyone has to offer. Love will hurt you sometimes, but it is only natural! Nothing about life is perfect. Certainly if life and love were just peachy, the world would be wonderful! Hurt, pain, no one wants them, but there is one good reason they exist. They make love stronger." She smiled. "Don't turn him away; you know you love him. You'll only regret not taking the chance."

Babette looked at her with admiration; she had never thought of it in such a way as that. Taking a deep breath, she hugged Madame quickly, whispering a thank you, before walking down to the great hall, at last feeling at ease.

Pacing the dark hall quietly, frustrated as the bell tolled a quarter to ten, Babette started to give up hope. The moon shone through the window, and she looked out at the sudden snowfall that signaled an earlier than expected winter. A fool for actually believing, she thought as she turned to tread back to her room, which was fortunately the right choice as she had walked right into Lumière.

"I apologize for being so late," he offered sheepishly. "Many last minute changes to details, courtesy of the snow."

Babette sighed impatiently, but when she looked at him to reply, she met his glance in the flame light of the lantern he carried. She wouldn't have recognized him at all. He was dressed more casually, his hair freed of the powder that status demanded, and she noticed that in actuality its true color was a rich light brown. The girl thought she would never breathe again.

"Are you all right?"

"What?" The words brought her back to her senses. "Oh, yes...startled me, that's all...took me by surprise."

He grinned and could have mopped her off the floor right then to stop her from melting. "I suppose fresh air will do us both good. Your beauty alone has done the same to me." Taking her hand, slipping a kiss to it gently, he led her to the doors. "Shall we begin then?"

Babette could not have dreamed a more extraordinary night. In spite of the cold, they laughed, wined and dined, and walked into the moonlight, never letting go of each other's hand amidst the lustrous snow. The moment she showed the slightest sign of shivering, Lumière drew into his arms. "The last thing I need," he explained, kissing her cheek lightly, "Is for you to hate me forever simply because you caught a cold on the first date."

She giggled under her breath, drawing his arms instead of her cloak tightly around her. "The master himself does not own a better coat than this; I would have to forgive you, out of gratitude at least."

He reached to cup her face in his hands. "Are you all right, mon amour? You look positively flushed from the cold; tell me what to do to make you feel better."

"Only this, perhaps..." she answered, sealing the short reply with a tender kiss, breathing everything in deeply to keep it in her memory.

"That..." Lumière responded, coherent thoughts properly vanished from his thoughts, "That could definitely help." Holding her close beside him, they continued their walk, until he felt her steps growing slower. "My coy little mouse, your feet grow weary and you have not told me?"

"Perhaps, I barely had a care to notice..."

He stopped walking and smiled down at her. "Then...how about...a ride instead of a walk?"

Babette looked at him puzzled. "A ride?"

Lumière grinned mischievously, lifting her into his arms as she screeched in surprise, and he brought her to the stables where a readied sleigh awaited them. "Yes, a ride. hence the reason for my being late."

Placing her inside and climbing next to her, Lumière smiled as he drew the blanket around them, and snapped the reins starting the anxious horse into a walk. Babette blissfully grinned, cuddling beneath his arm that draped around her shoulders. Leaning up to his ear, she whispered fondly, "You win."

"Hmm?"

"You win, won me over."

Lumière beamed. "You had doubts that I would do so? I knew all along that I would."

Babette nuzzled into his shoulder comfortably. "Your conceit will be your downfall."

"Never conceit, amourette; more like self assurance."

"Same thing."

He laughed gently before they both slipped into silence once more, feeling their dreams of each other at last coming true.


	11. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

As the moon rose high in the sky, the breeze gradually built itself into a freezing wind, and Lumière quickly cajoled the horse back to the stables. Softly, he nudged Babette awake after they pulled into the doors. 

"Ma chérie, the wind is getting worse than I expected; we must get inside."

Babette stirred groggily, not fully awake until she felt him climb out of the sleigh. She rubbed her eyes, reaching for his arm. "Mmm...don't leave."

He kissed her forehead reassuringly. "Only releasing the horse, mon seulement, nothing more."

Babette groaned as she made herself arise fully. It was almost over. When he returned, it would be to walk her inside. No, this all felt too good, too remarkable, to be over so soon. Silently, she crept out of the sleigh and made her way to the ladder leading to the loft.

By the time Lumière came back, Babette was leaning over the edge smiling down at him from above. "What are you doing down there, handsome?" she crooned faintly so as not to spook the horses.

Turning his eyes up to her, he made every effort to be serious, but failed atrociously, breaking into a smile instead. "Babette, come down from there; it's late and the snow is starting to build outside."

"Then first of all, we should not risk the walk back, and secondly, it would be rude to wake everyone." She grinned flirtatiously. "Therefore, why don't you come up here?"

He shook his head with a smirk, grabbed the lantern and the blanket from the sleigh, and made for the ladder. "Woman right after my own heart."

"You had better believe it."

As he rested his coat on the straw, she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him down beside her and wrapping the blanket over them. "Thank you..."

"Whatever for?"

"A lovely evening...proving me wrong."

Lumière laughed gently, stroking her hair as his lips grazed her cheek. "In that case you are very welcome."

Babette grinned in reply, and wasted no time in drawing him into a kiss, slowly, passionately. She owed him so much for how he had changed her for the better. She no longer feared being close to someone, showing them that you care. He had given her something special, and she never planned on letting it go.

For only a moment, she brought herself out of it and gazed at him fondly. "Je t'aime."

Lumière beamed as he blew out the lantern and resumed the glorious moment. "Maintenant et toujours..."

Once the light had faded from the stables, the doors blew creakily shut as a figure watched in the distance. At first glance, one would have thought it an old woman as she walked shakily, but then she miraculously stood up straight and tall, the hood of her cloak falling to reveal her younger than expected. She took one sweeping glimpse over the grounds before raising her eyes to the massive castle.

"It is such a shame," she muttered, "To think that no one will remember this place, and all will have to suffer." Her eyes looked once again to the stable doors. "At least they had tonight, nothing will be the same tomorrow."

Raising her hood back into place and pulling a single rose from her cloak, the woman continued the walk to the castle carrying on in the wobbling manner, each step wishing a silent apology to all who lived inside.

_The End_


End file.
